Farm life

This visit to the farm is unlike any others to date. On previous visits we have enjoyed the serenity and beauty of the natural landscape, the calm felt being around the sheep and cattle have got in and worked wherever there was the need. A little while ago we made the decision to put the farm on the market and we have recently had an offer made that we have decided to accept. Retaining the farm, regardless of how much we love it, without living on site is not viable. The running costs, and workload during sporadic visits have seen us reassess the impact on how we live and work. Perhaps if we were able to consider retirement and could move here permanently things would be different, but we can't and therein lies the challenge. A decision has been made and now we need to follow through. This has seen the focus for our Christmas visit become the packing up and disposal of a houseful of furniture, bits and pieces and memories. It is a bitter sweet experience. Most times when you pack up your home and sell up it is in order to relocate to another property. As such, the sadness is tinged with excitement as you plan where you will move on to and the packing is balanced with unpacking. Without this valve I am struggling a little. It is an immense task, there is a limited timeframe in which to work and the way forward is not clear. That said, this is not a one man job, as such my ability to help makes a difference. The challenge is balancing disposal of items while deciding what should be retained, then working out the logistics of getting those items home to Brisbane. We are working on one car load of items for retention. As such the packing process is one step short of ruthless. For someone like me who takes pleasure in the history of items this is a hard one, but it is balanced by the fact that the bulk of memories tied up in the farm belong to someone else. As such I am able to take a step back and do what is required - for the most part. Little clues suggest that I am finding the process emotional. The need to trap and dispose of a feral cat and her kittens is doing my head in. The logic of knowing the impact she inflicts on the environment is hard to balance when so far she hunts pests like rabbits and starlings to feed her family. I am yet to see the justification of the need to dispose of the cats. Perhaps now that I no longer need to be a "farm girl" I am taking a step back from what can sometimes see justification of tough decision making processes a necessity of life. As for the final farm clearance - this is scheduled to take place 18 January 2014. A time for new beginnings with a family of five children getting set to move in. For me, the thought that we have access to a beautiful 1870 Georgian heritage listed farm house for a holiday base and a guaranteed support for return visits will see me able to walk away smiling. I would not like to think that our leaving the farm equates to our leaving this small community. 27.12.13

Hobart here we come!

We left the farm early Sunday morning so that we could arrive in Hobart for a visit to the Salamanca markets bright and early. Beat the crowds, find a car park etc. Only problem was the markets are held on Saturdays! Oops. Slight miscalculation of dates. Luckily for me the Tastes of Tasmania festival is on as is the end of the Sydney to Hobart yacht race sponsored by Rolex. While we didn't get to see Wild Oats cross the line in first place for the second up year in a row, we have seen her in the dock, alongside Loyal, Wild Thing and Nikata as well as seeing Brindabella and many of the smaller boats cross the line. Yesterday we walked along Salamanca Place, then headed up and around Battery Point and down again, and by a fluke found a secluded little section of coastline adjacent to the finish line just near the officials hut. As each boat crosses the line the hooter goes off as the boats cross between two yellow buoys. We sat on the rocks protected from the wind by the shrubbery and both got the worst case of sunburnt faces we have had in ages. Incredible given I was wearing a winter coat, long sleeved shirt and jeans. It was freezing in the wind. I now look like a red panda sporting a red face and nose and white eyelets. Battery point was well worth a look with some lovely stone cottages and unique buildings. Obviously both history and money abound in this area. The queue for coffee at the bakery suggests that it is also a trendy place to be seen on a Sunday....or that the coffee is good. Unfortunately the Tastes festival leaves a lot to be desired. Huge crowds and long lines. Food seems expensive and in small proportions. Entertainment for children falls short of the standard I have come to expect at home and as such is disappointing. That said, there is a good audience for the twilight screening of the Sound of Music. A classic at any age. There are also the usual selection of buskers and street performers. My favourites so far are the Verandahcoots. One girl plays honky tonk piano, the other plays her wash board. Sometimes they have a guy on accordion to accompany them, at others not. For perseverance they win hands down. For boppy little routines they are are a crowd favourite. Late afternoon update - when the girls only play they go by the moniker "Ragdolls". 30.12.13

Designer homewares in Hobart

Huon Pine

Tuesday saw us heading off on The Lady Franklin II for a day cruise up the Gordon River. We were on the upper deck with direct access to the Captain. Very posh! We initially headed out towards the coast and through Hell's Gates saw Bonnett Island with its little lighthouse and a second larger island complete with its own larger lighthouse. Salmon and trout farming is a core local industry and we went out within viewing distance to see both the holding pens for the fingerlings and larger fish and the feeding technique. Basically fish pellets are mixed with water and a little boat with a fire hose style attachment sprays plumes of water into the holding pens. Whatever they are doing works if the smoked Petuna Salmon we had at lunch is anything to go by. It was delicious. The cruise included morning and afternoon tea as well as lunch, so by the end of the day had tasted lots of Tasmania's local produce - from beer and wine, to King Island cheeses, smoked salmon and wallaby, trout, and cookies. Unbelievable though it may seem the food was not the best part of the day. Once we turned away from the coast and headed back to the river system the boat slowed from cursing speed to a speed where it hardly made a ripple on the water. I guess this is to ensure minimal environmental impact, but it actually made for wonderful viewing of the vegetation and ensured some great photographic opportunity as we moved further up the River system and into sheltered stretches if the river. Although overcast, the reflected views of the trees onto the river were incredibly beautiful. Part way in we stopped at the Heritage Walk, everyone disembarked, walked a lap of the raised boardwalk through the forest and returned to the dock. Seeing the vegetation up close was interesting. From the boat too we went close to the bank at one point so that the captain could point out a Huon Pine. This is what the Gordon and Franklin World Heritage area is famous for. These trees are no longer able to be milled, but such is their value as timber that there are still seemingly large supplies stockpiled locally. Apparently this timber is unique in that it is nearly impervious to rot, even after years in water so as trees die naturally and fall they still end up in the river system. Floaters are up for grabs and can be collected. There are a number of local businesses that rely on the timber trade - either raw product or turned items from sale. Needless to say, like any hand crafted items, prices reflect the time taken to source stock and make items. Leatherwood, sassafras, King Billy and Huon Pine are all timbers used. 17.12.13

The Wall, Tasmania

The highlight of the trip across to Strahan (other than an echidna tally of three) had to be a visit to The Wall. This incredible place must be one of the best kept secrets in Tasmania. Frank had heard of it from one of his brothers who stopped in on a visit to Tasmania. The feedback must have been good as one minute we were driving along the road and the next we had veered off and were finding a place to park. This place is almost indescribable. A labour of love, self funded by a local wood sculptor named Greg Duncan The Wall is both a personal testament to an artists' skill yet also depicts a personal view of the history and environment of this unique island. Made up of a series of carved wooden panels 3 metres high by 1 metre wide, the panels joined make up a scene almost 100 metres in length. The panels run back to back down a long enclosed hallway. The space itself is awe inspiring and a lot of thought has been put into this purpose built space. The carved timber panels take pride of place running up the centre of the building. The walls themselves will, over time, hold customised display panels. Some of these have been installed, others are yet to be erected. The interesting thing for me was to see that the art on display here is very much a work in progress. While many of the panels are completed with detailed carving and textured images, many of the panels are part carved and some are yet to be begun. As a learning tool this makes for great viewing as at different points you are able to see the artists' rough sketches, more detailed drawings, rough carved sections and detailed carving int he middle of unstated panels. It is incredibly interesting to see this work in progress. For me, perhaps even more interesting than seeing what this will be an another 10 years time. I'm only guessing at time frames, but the level of detail in the carving suggests it is far from finished. Panels depict early settlers, people working clearing forests, farmers, draught horses, dogs, children, native flora and fauna. Stories depicted range from settlement to environmental impact. From now extinct animals such as the Tasmanian Tiger, to those under threat like the orange bellied parrot. The bounty for Tasmanian Tiger pelts as documented is heart breaking yet the artistic talent required to carve the record is inspiring. A long list of names and dates shows the human impact on the native population of this animal. The rest of the centre is set out around a reception area, massive fire place and lounge area and a mezzanine displaying work by the artists' son, also a wood carver, and the artists' sister, who paints. There are also numerous examples of carved items that until closer inspection look like a pair of leather gloves draped on a shovel, or a coat and hat hanging on a rack. The timber screams out to be touched, but it is clear that this is not an option. The smell of the space however almost makes up for it with timber scents everywhere. It is easy to get a feel for Greg Duncan. His views on unruly children as visitors and vehement demands for no photography suggest an artistic temperament. That said, I can understand his concern for copyright - that was before I read an appeal from him, stuck to the door, that detailed a list of injuries he has received from disgruntled visitors - fractured eye socket included. It truly is an amazing place to visit and I hope long term plans include capacity for coffee and cake added to the alcohol currently on offer. Our morning visit was not the right time to take up the offer of local spirits, the honey tasted however was enough to encourage us to buy a block to take with us. Almost like creamed honey, but solid, this tasted sweeter than chocolate but with a similar texture. Heavenly! Coffee would go a long way to making The Walls commercially viable, but I wonder whether this is what the artist wants. It really is a labour of love. My thought at present is that some people would think the $10 adult admission price a little steep. As for me, I loved this place and could happily have stayed on. 16.12.13

Arrival in Strahan

We arrived in Strahan in time for a late lunch so joined everyone in town for a nibble at the local bakery cafe. After a very good toasted pita bread with chicken and salad washed down with banana flavoured milk (tasted exactly like banana lollies!) we headed off to walk around town exploring. We collected tickets for the boat cruise we had booked for the next day, then checked in to our accommodation. Everyone is very trusting here - we were directed to head on up the road to The Crays - Kelly and we would find the key in the door. We did, and it was! Neat and tidy, with a living area, kitchen and two bedrooms we had everything we could need for a couple of days stay with a glimpse of the water and walking distance down to the main part of town. Perfect. Being early summer it is easy to spot the tourists, but being early in the week was still quiet. We went to the local IGA and got supplies for self catered breakfasts, water, snacks then headed back into town for dinner at the local Hamers Hotel. All good and everyone happy. 16.12.13

Strahan, Tasmania

We decided to take the opportunity to head over to Strahan for a couple of days. I had not yet ventured to the West coast of Tasmania,while Frank knew something of what was on offer. Given Samson was with us for a few days and he too had not been to Strahan, we decide to go exploring. Leaving Tunnack on Monday morning we passed through a number of interesting towns. Tasmania is full of history and each little town or hamlet adds to the story. Bothwell had street signs of tartan with names harking back to what could only be a Scottish background. Even more intriguing was that each street sign seems to boast a different tartan pattern. I needed Mum or a book of Scottish tartans to translate. A cab driver might not like it trying to find a particular street, but for me they were a unique feature of this little town. Hamilton might be worth a stop over on another visit as it seemed to have a cluster of little shops, most of which seemed to be selling antiques and collectables. Just my thing. Then there was Ouse. Apparently this is pronounced "Ooze". Why, I can not say. Just seems to be the local vernacular, and with a servo and newsagent mixed with a supermarket of sorts it didn't seem likely that I would find out any time soon. These little places were on the Tunnack side of the drive. All up it was approximately a five hour trip to Strahan. At times the road was serpentine winding up and down mountains as we worked our way from the Southern Midlands across the range and down to the Central Coast and the township of Strahan. 16.12.13

Cradle Mountain

We had to run an errand which saw us heading to Devonport. Perfect way to cap off the 2.30 hour road trip was to detour to Cradle Mountain before heading back to the farm. Much as I love the farm, mini adventures and overnighters is what Tasmania is all about, so at the first hint of an excursion I was in. Cradle Mountain is truly beautiful. A large section of unspoilt wilderness. Perfect for exploring and walking. For those adventurous souls there is the Overland Track - a walk of 80 or so kilometres that takes anything from 5 - 7 days. Each year over 8000 people walk this track. For those more sensible souls there are a range of day walks ranging from 30 minutes or so to a couple of hours. Given weather conditions the choice is yours. The set up to support visitation is quite impressive and given the number of people visiting the area, the behind the scenes coordination goes a long way to making things viable and minimising the human impact on this Heritage listed wilderness area. Even in April, with drizzle and wind, the weather was cold and far from pleasant. That said everyone just got in and enjoyed the scenery regardless. We still took photographs and some of these I think will still capture the raw beauty of Cradle Mountain. Appearing through the fog, rising behind Dove Lake I can only imagine how impressive this mountain is in clear weather. For me though, the Boat Shed and the rainbow we saw more than made up for any disappointment at seeing Cradle Mountain itself disappear into the mist. I have never seen a rainbow arc a full semi circle like this one did. It was an awe inspiring sight. One that you could never fully imagine without having seen it for yourself. 2.4.2013

Running up the hill

NB: due to the extreme weather conditions and impact of the fires, Internet access was difficult so I was unable to load this entry until Saturday, our day of departure.

Incredibly hard though it is to write, today is my last day at the farm for this visit, for tomorrow we fly back to Brisbane. There is something about being here that soothes my soul. Being in such a remote, beautiful location makes you realise that you don't have to travel far from home to experience the best of what life has to offer. The scenery is amazing, and hearing the continual bird talk, having the sheep nearby and absorbing the colours in nature, all adds up to being wonderfully inspiring. The wind has picked up over the last couple of days, with temperatures rising to heat wave conditions - at least for Tasmania. Yesterday was in the low 30's, today will be 39 or thereabouts according to current weather reports. With a total fire ban throughout Tasmania, after serious fires across the State yesterday. The best thing is that without the humidity we normally experience in Brisbane, it is totally ok and you find yourself out and about doing all of the things you would normally do on the farm. I did however learn pretty quickly that although it doesn't feel hot, you still need sunscreen. Oops, the raccoon girl look takes a bit of getting used to. My cap protected my forehead. Pity about my ears and cheeks. The other amazing impact of the wind is that the grass "runs". What? You have never seen grass running up the hill? No, neither had I, but trust me, it is a wonderful sight. The wind gets under the grass and moves it, so that it looks like the whole hillside is swaying in the breeze, moving up and across the hill, dancing in the breeze. Grass here is not the short green stuff we are used to at home either. There are multiple layers, knee high, with clover and green shoots lower down, but the tall heads are lilac and golden depending on the type of grass so the colours dance and sway across the hillside too. It really is incredibly beautiful to watch, and something that taking a photo of just doesn't capture. Nothing can quite do justice to how wonderful this phenomenon is to see except for standing there and soaking up this visual delight. Truly beautiful! PS Weather at home hit the high 30's, as for Hobart? All time record of 40.8 or thereabouts.

Bird spotting

Incredible though it is to believe the best spot for bird watching at the farm is from inside the house. This beautiful old farm house has many windows with a garden outlook. My favourite spot is in the family room, just off the kitchen. Catching the morning sun it is the perfect spot to look out onto the garden. With a little patch of lawn, some garden beds and a wild patch left for the local wildlife, birds seem to love this spot. As for me, with a sofa, and fire place I too am snug while I look out at the world beyond. The tally so far is as follows - a Little Wattlebird enjoying the nectar from the bottlebrush. Although the name suggests otherwise, this guy wasn't so little. A good sized bird, although obviously smaller than other wattle bird species, he had beautiful speckled feathers and was obviously enjoying the nectar. The Superb Fairy Wrens are still here, although not as easily spotted as my last visit. The male comes around in the late afternoon sunshine, working over the lawn for a last snack before settling down for the evening. His Jennies, of which there are currently two, watch proceedings from the safety of the nearby bushes. They seem to be erring on the side of caution, as opposed to my last visit where they regularly came down into the garden, dancing across the lawn and displaying on low lying shrubs. That said, their favourite haunt then, was in another part of the garden. More secluded and sheltered, with a natural little amphitheatre formed by foliage. It was the perfect viewing point for these little birds. Now, if they would only stay still long enough for me to take their photo! The Green Rosella's have taken me by surprise. Whereas previously I had only seen them up on the high part of the property, in the farthest corner from the house, yesterday they came down into the trees adjacent to the farm house. A small group of four or five birds flew in and settled to feed for a while. These Rosella's are less flamboyant than the Eastern Rosella's we get at home, but they are equally beautifully. It amazes me that from behind they camouflage so well, yet if you see them from the front, or as they take off in flight, a vivid flash of colour announces their presence. The Starlings get the award for the most numerous and the dumbest birds on the farm. They are in such healthy numbers they can only be considered in pest proportions, yet I still find myself rescuing them if I can. It seems these kamikazes of the bird world like nothing better than to launch themselves into the chimneys and fire flues. Wouldn't be a problem if they could get out again, but they can't. So, current tally is three birds rescued and one who wasn't discovered in time. Rescuing these twits involves closing all doors, windows and other egress points, gathering a towel or the like, stealthily opening the door to the firebox, then trying to secure the bird/birds before they launch themselves into the room. Fingers crossed, but so far so good....and even though considered a pest, rescue is much preferable to a slow death through smoke inhalation or starvation. One happy little visitor has been the Common Blackbird. As their name suggests these guys sport jet black plumage, but have a bright orange beak. This and their attitude makes them appear to be the comedians of the farm. If birds could talk these guys would be the ones cracking jokes. They are always busy getting about their business, whatever that might be. Better get back to my bird watching....might miss something if I spend too long blogging instead of bird spotting. Late addition...spotted a European Goldfinch this afternoon. It was sitting in a nearby tree singing a beautiful song until a Myna came and scared it off. Bummer.